


Sweet as Maple

by palateens



Series: IncuBitty [5]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Succubi & Incubi, Anxiety, Belly Kink, Blood Magic, Feeding Kink, Fingerfucking, Food Kink, Food Sex, Jack Zimmermann's Overdose, Magical Realism, Mortality, Multi, Nonbinary Character, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Penetrative Sex, Pining, Polyamory, Relationship Discussions, Riding, Slow Burn, Succubi & Incubi, Trans Character, all the ships imagineable, everyone's trans and gender is a lie, magic genitals that change at will
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-06-13 08:06:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15359976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palateens/pseuds/palateens
Summary: Bitty's on top of everything in his life.Everything except Jack Laurent Zimmermann.





	1. Everything's Fine

**Author's Note:**

> new story time! and this one will ALSO be longer than I initially intended it to be (but that's alright right? it's jack and bitty, c'mon) 
> 
> warning: this fic is rated E for a reason. Lots of sex still happens. Characters are only technically human at this point and they change their genitalia as often as they change their gender identities (sometimes even more often than that). Hope that doesn't jar anyone but pronouns will at least stay consistent in this story.

January 2015

Bitty liked to think of himself as a fairly responsible incubus, and a decent one at that. He has a good den, a great harem, and an all-around excellent reputation within the incubi and magical beings communities at large. He has a supportive family, a wonderful territory with only a few pesky vampires living across the street, and his college career is shaping up to be perfectly average thus far. Really, Bitty's on top of everything in his life—

Including his mate, Ransom, who he is literally currently on top of, riding him like there's no tomorrow.

Ransom grunts. He grips Bitty's hips tighter, thrusting deeper into Bitty. Bitty throws his head back as he keens, thanking Holster's foresight when he reminded Bitty to put muffling charms on all their bedrooms last night.

"Ah, fuck fuck fuck," Ransom says, trembling slightly.

Bitty slows his pace. "What's wrong, sweetie?"

"I'm close, fuck," he pants. "Can we—"

"Try the thing we talked about?"

"Yes please," Ransom whispers.

Bitty leans forward, kissing his forehead. He pulls a peach pit out from under the pillow cradling Ransom's head. Bitty cracks the pit open, gesturing for Ransom to open his mouth to swallow the soft seed left behind.

"Ok you got to concentrate remember? I'll help you if you need it but—"

"Yea, yea, I got it," he says hurriedly.

Bitty can tell the second the seed reaches Ransom's stomach because his stomach ripples a bit. Over the last year or so, they've tried a variety of produce in a number of situations. Ransom (and Holster...and all his mates really) have gotten much more adept at changing their genitalia at will.

What they haven't practiced, however, is Ransom growing produce and then harvesting it on his own.

"Back up," Ransom murmurs.

Bitty sits next to him carefully as Ransom opens up and shrinks down his dick. Bitty takes note of how seamlessly Ransom multi-tasks, his stomach beginning to pop as new peaches grow in him.

Bitty licks his lips, his hands itching to touch him. Ransom's hands start to wander toward his dick when—

"BITTLE," Jack shouts from outside the door.

"Are you fucking kidding me," Ransom says angrily.

"Fuck, what time is it?"

Bitty reaches over the bed, grabbing his phone off the desk. 5:45 am, too early for Jack to be nagging him. He groans, lowering the muffling spell only for his voice.

"What?" Bitty shouts back.

"You're late for our run," Jack says.

"Jesus fuck," Ransom groans.

Bitty rubs circles into Ransom's stomach. Ransom moans softly, parting his legs as his stomach continues to balloon outward.

"You cancelled our run last night, Jacques Laurent, remember?"

"No I said we ought to get to Annie's before the snowstorm," Jack says.

"Get rid of him and fuck me," Ransom says.

Bitty absent mindedly nods as he grows his dick to a larger length.

"The snow already started Jack," Bitty says evenly as he gently presses himself into Ransom.

He gently shakes Ransom's belly, causing him to moan as some of the peaches drop lower into his pelvis.

"Then come to Faber with me," Jack says.

Ransom grabs Bitty's hips again, pulling Bitty more harshly into him.

"You're insatiable," Bitty says to no one in particular.

"We both could you the practice, Bittle," Jack argues through the door.

"Perhaps consider, I will kill you both if you stop," Ransom mutters, quivering as his eyes closed. "Ok shit ok they're ready."

Bitty pulls out, his hands go to work massaging Ransom's inner thighs as Ransom presses down on his own belly.

"Milk," Ransom says.

Bitty conjurers him a glass.

"With honey," Ransom adds.

Bitty tsks as he complies. "You are greedy today."

"Your intruder is ruining my good time."

"Fair," Bitty says with a slight pout. "Jack? If you give me five minutes—"

"Ten," Ransom says before chugging the drink.

“—ten minutes, I'll go to Faber with you for extra practice. How does that sound?"

Ransom clutches his stomach, moaning in ecstasy as a peach breeches his front hole and his middle pops another few inches. Bitty seizes the opportunity to suck some of the preserves out of Ransom belly button.

"Alright," Jack says.

Bitty doesn't wait for a second before throwing the muffling spell back up. He takes Ransom's dick in his mouth and licks it clean as his mate pushes peach after peach out of his hole. The last peach gets stuck momentarily. Bitty moves his lips away long enough to murmur, "C'mon, sweetie, you're so beautiful and talented. I know you got this."

Ransom comes with a stream of shouts as Bitty drinks any excess liquids he had out of his belly button. He grabs Bitty's hand and makes him fuck him with his fingers for good measure. Ransom comes again and makes Bitty finish in him. Bitty collapsed on top of Ransom, burying his head in his neck.

"How long was that," Bitty asks.

"About eight minutes,” Ransom says.

“Holtzy’s probably awake now huh?” his words slur, half blissed on Ransom’s pleasure alone.

“What the literal fuck you two” Holster shouts from upstairs.

“You think?” Ransom chirps.

Bitty laughs, digging his nose further into Ransom’s neck. He inhales the scent of his mate. One day, all of his mates will have a discernible harem smell lying just beneath their individual scents. For now, all his mates smell like strangers to each other and he does his best to remedy it by mixing his scent with theirs. It only requires consistent sex with all of them, and it's not like anyone's complaining about that.

"Bittle, hurry up," Jack says impatiently on the other side of the door.

He didn't hear Holster's complaints thanks to Bitty's spellwork.

"Coming," Bitty says as he pulls the covers over Ransom and spells some clothing on.

Ransom shakes his head as he burrows further into Bitty's bed.

"Have fun with that impromptu practice," Ransom murmurs.

"I will," Bitty says, already exhausted at the idea of skating suicides. "Try to get some sleep, sweetie."

Ransom waves him off as Bitty says a cloaking spell, charming the room to seem empty aside from Bitty's perfectly made (and seemingly vacant) bed. He throws the door open just as quick, allowing Jack to cross his arms and look upon him in mild disdain as Bitty grabs his hockey bag.

"Ready," Jack asks a tad too impatiently.

"Sure," Bitty says, ushering Jack halfway out of the Haus before anyone can stop them.

They walk to Faber slowly, watching the snowfall in companionable silence. Their drills go as smoothly as can be expected with Jack being the taskmaster that he is and Bitty having no shits to give beyond having a good shooting average and decent stick handling skills. It's not like he needs speed training or to learn how to find Jack out on the ice. That's what his magic is for.

When Jack finally calls it a day, they shower quickly before trudging back home. The snow is falling heavier and larger than before. It's times like these that make Bitty thankful that he can teleport to his mother's house whenever it gets too cold and disgusting up north.

"I don't see why classes were cancelled this morning," Jack grumbles as they cross the bridge into the suburbs.

Bitty can think of a million reasons people wouldn't want to be out during a storm like theirs.

But mostly he thinks someone ought to teach Jack that he can still do things he enjoys on his own free time. He doesn't need an organization or institution dictating his day down to the last second. Bitty thinks that if Jack were his mate by now, this would be one of his top priorities. He helps everyone in his harem--from the big things like helping Ransom with his anxiety or Shitty with her gender identity to the smaller things like teaching Holster how to burn proof his tongue before eating hot pockets. If he could get Jack out of his own head for long enough, Bitty thinks he would be an excellent addition to their harem.

Now if only it were that easy.

Bitty sighs, instead bumping Jack's shoulder playfully instead.

"I think your TA's probably appreciate not driving in these conditions," Bitty tells him.

Jack hums thoughtfully. It's the kind of sound that reminds Bitty of 1942 for some reason. Lots of people were humming to themselves that year. He supposes Jack has always come off as an old soul to Bitty. Even when reincarnation is extremely rare among non-magic humans, there's something about Jack that's always resonated on an older frequency than what Bitty's used to of humans born during the last two centuries.

Jack eventually shrugs as they turn onto the street where the Haus resides. He nods his head slowly as if to agree agree with Bitty's point, albeit somewhat reluctantly. The problem with Jack, Bitty's realized, isn't that he doesn't care about people other than himself. It's that he's learned through years of oscillating rapidly between idolization and isolation never to care more about people than ideas. People can hurt Jack, but ephemeral sociology trends of early 1900s bakeries within immigrant neighborhoods of New York won't. Jack could be a good mate. He could be a great mate, even.

But as he stalks into the Haus, all but forgetting Bitty's presence at the smell of bacon, it's clear to Bitty what isn't yet clear to the rest of his harem. Jack's still learning to care about them. Still learning to trust that they'll be around after graduation.

Bitty sighs as he trudges back upstairs, falling into Shitty's bed so as not to disturb Ransom's sleep.

"Holzty says there's no bacon for you," Shitty says as he curls around her.

"He says that every time," Bitty mutters tersely, causing her to laugh.

"D'ya have a good time with our resident human?" Shitty asks.

Bitty shrugs, combing back some of her hair with his fingers. It's as fun as an incubus can have with a human who doesn't know his identity, he thinks. Most of his mates are still human for the most part. But they gain a little more magic every day. They're not perfectly human anymore. One day soon they'll be able to control their aging, allowing them to become immortal like him. Eventually, hundreds of years from now, they'll be no different than a harem filled with only natural born incubi.

It's difficult to consider the inevitabilities of their harem when they're still in transition, still getting to a place where they have a stable number of mates.

"You know you have to tell him eventually, babe," Shitty says.

"I know," Bitty agrees. "It'll happen."

He thinks about the one rule his mother always adamantly lectured him on.

"When is that gonna be?"

_Don't let a human live in if you can't guarantee they're going to accept your proposal._

"Probably before it's too late," Bitty says.

Shitty huffs, reluctantly nodding as she snuggles against his chest.

"If you say so, babe," she says.

Bitty smirks ruefully before kissing her forehead. Yea, Bitty's on top of everything in his life.

Everything except Jack Laurent Zimmermann.   

 


	2. Retroactive Deals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You see the problem with keeping a mate from your other mates just because you don’t want to court the dude you have to mate right?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In order for this chapter to make sense, you might want to read the first work I ever published for this series [Pop Your Cherry.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13479867) I have made a few edits to this work so if you haven't read it in a while, it might be worth taking a look at. Most of the changes occur in the opening exposition so if you don't feel like reading to much, the first few paragraphs should offer enough insight.

Over the years, communication for mankind has changed drastically. While the ancestors of Bitty’s harem used to send quick missives by mail, most of them grew up with the concept of near instantaneous messaging and telephone calls. Incubus communication, on the other hand, has gone relatively unchanged over the last two millennia.

Bitty likes to think that it’s because down at their core, living beings crave direct contact. Nothing beats teleportation unless a being’s schedule doesn’t a lot for lengthy discussions at home, much like Bitty’s case. But even then, the ability to see someone’s face while calling them is relatively new to human whereas incubi mastered that ability centuries upon centuries ago. It helps keep conversations direct and minimizes the capacity for misinterpretations.

Somedays, however, Bitty would rather not look at his mother’s crossed expression as she writes out reports for her own mother, the Grand Succubus. Bitty tries to keep his eyes on his own handiwork, a cherry pie for that stupid human Jack is clearly still attached to. Not that Kent Parson is any more than a nuisance to Bitty. But petty revenge for blasphemous comments made against his pies, of course, has to come in the form of piping hot demise.

Anything to keep Bitty from the wrath of his mother’s scowl.

Suzanne, after a few hours, sighs heavily. Taking off the bifocals she stole from Benjamin Franklin, purely for aesthetic purposes.

“Well out with it,” she says calmly.

“Out with what, mama?” He feigns ignorance.

“Justin sent your excuses for tomorrow night’s meeting. What is it this time?”

“We’re not—”

“Ready, yes I know,” she says tiredly. “You don’t have enough mates. Your second in command hasn’t been formally educated yet. You’re courting a new mate. You and your betrothed are still ironing things out.”

“All true,” he insists.

“Eric,” his mother says.

Bitty continues to slice the dough for his lattice very meticulously. He pretends to be more enraptured by that then the scolding his mother is giving him.    

“Ermes, listen when your mother is talking to you,” his father’s voice interjects.

Bitty sighs. He hates being first named, but not as much as disappointing his father. Richard doesn’t get firm with him unless it’s serious.

“Yes, Daddy,” Bitty says. “Sorry.”

“Look at me, sweetheart,” he says.

Bitty puts down his dough slicer, trying to keep his facade of confidence in place. Richard, standing right behind his mate,  sees right through it. He opens his arms for his youngest son. Bitty accepts the offering, passing easily through the projection and back to his childhood home. He falls into his birth parent’s arms. Richard squeezes him tightly.

“Now what’s this about you dodging events?” Richard asks quietly.

Bitty grumbles into Richard’s shoulder.

“Louder, Ermes,” he says gently.

Bitty sighs. “I haven’t mated Jack yet.”

“Is that all?” Suzanne says.

Richard hushes her.

“Ricardo, this is a non-issue,” she says.

“Dicky, is that what’s troubling you?”

“Yes?”

“See? He isn’t even sure!”  

Richard scratches the back of Bitty’s neck. He inhales deeply which serves to calm Bitty immensely. He’s learned over the decades that although he loves all of his parents very much, each incubus has a very special bond with the parent that bore them. There’s something so special and innately warm in the love an incubus has for their children.

“C’mon, son, talk,” Richard coaxes again.

“It’s just...what happens after we mate?” he asks.  

“Same thing as always, you integrate them into your harem and love just like anyone else would love a partner,” his father says.

“But then we won’t have any humans in the Haus.”

“That’s the point, sweetie,” Suzanne says. “That’s the way harems are meant to be like. Your home should be the one space y’all can be yourselves in when the world doesn’t make sense. It’s your stronghold.”

“I know…”

“So you know if you can’t mate him...you’ll have to cut him loose,” she says.  

Bitty gapes. “That won’t happen.”

Suzanne reclines further into her chair, rolling her eyes. “Fine, make sure it doesn’t.”

She straightens out the pile of paperwork on her desk. Despite the evolution of computers, Bitty’s MooMaw is still a fan of the old filing system. It’ll probably take another decade or so before she goes digital on their official proceedings. Not that it matters much either way, their formal missives are stored in a pocket dimension with a massive index for safe keeping.

“But the moment he moves out? If he’s unmated, he’s done. Understand?” Suzanne says.  

“Done as in?”

“You wipe yourself from his memory,” she says.

“Mama—”

“Don’t mama me,” she snaps. “You know the rules and you’ve had two fucking years to court him.”

Bitty shuts his mouth. He knows she’s right. He knew better. And yet—  

“What if he isn’t ready?”

“What? Because of six years ago?” Suzanne asks. “Ermes, he’s a human not a glass vase.”

“But he’s still working through things,” he says.

Suzanne conjures an observation window with a flick of her wrist. They view Jack, rough housing with Holster. Jack’s cell phone vibrates in his back pocket. When he looks at it, there’s a notification that he’s received a text from Kent. The smallest grin crosses his lips.

“Doesn’t look so broken to me,” she says as she ruins the window with a swish of her hand.

Bitty steps away from his father’s arms. “He’s repressing unresolved emotional issues with this human! I can’t mate him until he’s made peace with his humanity.”

Suzanne leans forward in her chair, staring intently at Bitty. He keeps very still, knowing any sign of weakness will result in a big fat gaping rejection from his mother. They remain in a standstill for entirely too long. Eventually, she caves, rubbing her temple.

“So you’re telling me you’re going to court a legendary hockey player...so you can mate the prospective hockey player that already lives in your den?” She says slowly.

“Yes,” Bitty says.

“Who you already have rights to since we own his soul?”

“Correct.” He keeps his gaze steady.

Suzanne groans. “And you’re not avoiding your responsibilities as heir?”

Bitty scoffs, maybe a bit too hard, at her suggestion. “Mother I would never dream—”

“Alright, try not to oversell your ruse,” she says.

She pauses as she takes a deep breath. “If this is the path in which you intend to take two mates, then very well. Those two were soulmates regardless.”

He beams. “You won’t—”

“Not so fast,” she says. “You will not take any other mates besides them until they are _both_ mated.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And you will mate them by the time Jack Zimmermann leaves that school. Or else we will find another way to cash in his soul. Understood?”

“Cash in like?”

“Well I’m not sure yet, Ermes,” she says warily. “But it seems to me that a prime mating candidate is right under your nose and you see unfit to do much of anything about him. I’m sure another harem or, fuck, another clan from another species, could find good use for him….Him and his soulmate.”

Bitty gulps. “Understood. Thank you for patience.”

Suzanne huffs, getting back to her paperwork. “Don’t make me regret it.”

 

_/.\\_

 

So maybe Bitty starts out seeking revenge. Maybe that revenge leads right up to seeing Kent Parson, fat, pliant, and squirming desperately for release. So maybe Bitty enjoys every second of it, and next thing he knows he’s successfully mated a future NHL hall of famer. It’s not anything to write home about.

Except this is exactly what he told his mother he’d do, and now he’s done it inadvertently at least two months ahead of schedule. She texts him back a thumbs up almost immediately. Bitty scowls as he schleps more cherry jam into jars. At least someone’s happy.

Kent’s asleep in his bed when he gets back. He’s naked and still chubby, but in a way that looks all over...soft. It just looks like Kent was born to have a little extra flesh on him. He twitches a bit, as if pained. Bitty, despite what he anticipated, already feels protective of this mate. He climbs over Kent so he can spoon him carefully.

He watches Kent whine quietly. He rubs Kent, now smaller, belly gently. It gives him a minute to appreciate this new body he gets to explore. The planes of Kent’s back and the way his hair curls back and forth in unpredictable directions. Kent’s skin is much more splotched, freckled, and hyper-pigmented than what anyone can really notice from even up close.

Kent was boring in the beginning because he seemed like another polished pretty boy. Perfect fodder for a vampire’s quick fuck or blood bag. But no, Bitty jumped to conclusions. He can tell as his hand roams gently around the curve of Kent’s bare ass toward his bruised and scarred thighs.  He never noticed how small Kent’s dick—

“Oh,” Bitty murmurs. His lips twitch slightly. “We have more in common than I thought, Mr. Parson.”

He wonders if Kent would want to do something about that, like Lardo did. If he’d want to ease into different genitals like Shitty did, or maybe if he’d be more like Bitty—fluctuating as the seasons and himself changed.  

Bitty’s chest tightens as he thinks about what this means for Jack. Soulmates twist and bend in similar ways. If Kent’s already so invested in his own gender, maybe Jack could be one of them. He sighs. Maybe.

 

_/.\\_

 

“So Parse, huh?” Shitty asks one afternoon in March.

The dining hall is packed with students clamoring for Sunday brunch. It’s hard to hear anything over the sound of hundreds of utensils clanking and young adults chattering.

“Sugar, this language is garbage and I don’t think you should assume I know what you’re asking,” Bitty says.  

“Ok…” she says. “Are you hiding a mate from us on purpose or is your Jack denial so bad that you’re losing it?”

Bitty chokes on his scrambled eggs. Good thing he doesn’t need to actually breathe like humans do. Nursey gives him the heimlich regardless, but that’s probably pay back for sexhiling him the other night when he and Holster were supposed to be studying for a midterm.

“Thanks...I guess,” Bitty says quietly.

“No prob, babe,” Nursey says, flashing him finger guns.

Bitty rolls his eyes. He swears that nymphs think being tricksters automatically makes them funny.  

“Nice distraction,” Holster says. “Grade A bullshit if I do say so myself.”

“I _was_ choking,” Bitty says.  

“Conveniently,” Ransom says.

“Do we really have to talk about this here? In public?” he says with a hiss.

“No, of course not,” Lardo says. “Let’s not address that you’ve been fucking him every night for the last three weeks.”

“Or that he’s Jack’s soulmate and we’re doing nothing about that,” Chowder says

“I don’t mind,” Farmer adds. “It’s really funny to see how much orgasm denial Jack’s going through on a regular.”

“You’re so cruel,” Nursey says. “And yet...I find that to be your most attractive quality.”

Dex snorts. “Because that thing she does with her tongue is—”    

“Not table talk, Dexy,” Farmer says. “But good to know.”

“Missing the point here,” Lardo says.

Bitty smirks. “This is exactly why arguments are so hard to have back home. Too many parents, cousins, siblings, and everyone’s got to have their own opinion in everything.”

“Well to be fair, this isn’t like your mom and Aunt Judy squabbling over who owns which celebrity’s soul,” Holster argues. “It’s like…you see the problem with keeping a mate from your other mates just because you don’t want to court the dude you have to mate right?”

“I’m not keeping anyone from anyone,” he says.  

“Really?” Lardo says, their tone drenched in disbelief. “Then tell me why can no one else see the NHL player in line for Sunday brunch?”

Bitty feels the blood brain from his face. He turns around in his seat, spotting Kent in one of Holster’s Sabers hoodies with a cap on his head.  

“How can you see him?” Bitty says, still staring at him. “I thought—”

“Oh we couldn’t at first,” Ransom says. “At least, Chowder was the only one who could really see your illusion charms.”

Bitty gawks at Chowder. “I put a lot of time—”

“Bits, we share a magical signature now. Remember?” Chowder shrugs, tucking into his pancakes. “Besides, where’d you think you were going to hide all those cherries?”

Kent trudges over to their table, accepting the seat Bitty pulls out for him. He yawns as he nods to everyone. Kent uses Bitty’s shoulder as a pillow.

“So, this is nice,” Kent says casually.

“I thought you were sleeping,” Bitty whispers.

“And I thought they knew I was in the Haus for like, weeks,” Kent argues.  

Bitty winces. “...How did you find out?”

“What? That I’m your dirty little secret?” Kent says as he peels an orange. “ I sort of figured the first time you locked me in your room. But, third or fourth time I jimmed the spell off and sorta wandered for a while.”

“You did _what_?”

“Ran into Lards and Shits, played some drinking games, shot the shit until we were on the same page,” Kent says.

“No I mean—how in fucking hell did you get that door unlocked?”

Kent scoffs. “What? Like it’s hard?”

Shitty bursts into laughter.  

“It’s extremely difficult when you’re barely—ugh, humans I swear,” Bitty grumbles. “So you pulled off a very complicated magically unbinding after being mated to me for what? Less than a month?”

“Yea I guess,” Kent says with a shrug. “Anyway what’s this shit about soulmates?”

Bitty stuffs more food into his mouth so he doesn't have to answer immediately. He really didn’t want to deal with any of this...ever but certainly not now.

“Soulmates aren’t terribly common but some humans do possess half of one slightly more powerful soul. Sometimes these are the reincarnated souls of magical beings who met an untimely end. Sometimes they exist because they’re meant to become magical beings at some point in their natural lives.”

“And if they don’t?” Ransom asks.

“I guess that’s another reason for reincarnation. I suppose...soulmates aren’t entirely human at birth. But that doesn’t mean they should be able to handle that much magic without any fucking formal education—”

“Aw, so I am special,” Kent teases.

“The cracks in your smile are showing, baby,” Bitty says.  

Kent scowls.

“So what does that mean for Jack? Y’know, now that you’ve mated half of his soul and shit.” Nursey

Bitty sighs. “It means a couple of things...Means I have to mate him sooner rather than later because he’s probably turning without realizing it.”

“As in—oh shit, that’s fucked up,” Ransom says. “So he has no choice in this? He’s just...already an incubus?”

“Half way there, and...honestly he never had much of a choice,” Bitty says.  

“Did we?” Lardo asks quietly.

Bitty snaps his gaze to them. He reaches over the table, grabbing their hands and squeezing them gently.

“Of course you did, honey. All of you did,” he says. “I never would’ve done anything if I’d heard a single no from you.”

“So...is it because of me? Did I fuck shit up for him?” Kent asks quietly.

“Baby, if anything it’s the other way around,” Bitty says. “It’s...complicated.”

“How complicated?” Shitty asks.

“Very.”

“How—”

“Drop it,” Bitty says. “It is what it is. Jack made his choice and now...he’ll have to see it through.”

“Or what?” Kent asks. He uses the first two fingers on his left hand to squeeze his left thumb tightly. He’s seen Kent do that a few times when he’s trying to hold onto stable emotions maybe a little tighter than necessary. When he’s more nervous than he’ll let on.

Bitty doesn’t look him in the eye. “Or negotiating your surrender to another clan will be very difficult. Y’all can’t live without each other, not when you’re done being human.”

Silence falls over the group. Expressions ranging from listless to ambivalent cross their faces.

“So...we’ll make sure they don’t have to,” Lardo says finally.

He wants to protest. They don’t know what they’re getting themselves into, and neither does he truthfully. It’s so strange to him, these beings he’s chosen as his mates. None of them have reached the ability or immortality of Bitty and Chowder. Yet they look at the magical world as this beautiful universe of possibilities, like newborns. They don’t see obstacles, only opportunities.

They want to make things work, for their sake and his. They already know the value of their harem. Bitty’s heart stutters. He isn’t sure he knows their value. He thought there would be more time to explore, to work through human thoughts. He didn’t expect them to be so gung ho about their new lives so early. They’re going to be around for eternity so timing is barely relevant, he thinks..

Lardo squeezes his shoulder gently. They look at him with care and tenderness like no human could. A flash of violet in their eyes reminds him that they barely are. They’re more his equals than he’s willing to admit. Maybe that’s for the best. He doesn’t know if he’s cut out for the responsibilities of a future clan head.

Bitty grins, trying not to let it falter,  for their sake. “Of course, honey.”

 

_/.\\_

 

No one mentions why Kent is sitting at breakfast with them, or why Kent keeps hogging the shower, so Jack doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t mention that Kent keeps helping the Frogs with their plays at practice. He doesn’t pretend to understand how Kent has time to do his actual job while also eating half the fridge on a regular basis.

Jack just goes with it because it seems to make everyone else happy. Bittle talks to him more when Kent’s around and, honestly, he’s never seen Kent smile so much. He just accepts that at any given point Kent may or may not be helping Holster with econ homework or...talking to Ransom about what sounds like the world’s most complicated game of chess?

He does try to say thank you a few times when Kent drops off lunch for him in the library. But Kent never seems to hear him. The ghosts mention in passing one morning that he and Kent are soulmates. It makes sense to him, in a way. He’s never felt more alone than when he was cut off from Kent. He used to think they could feel each other from any distance. One day, about two years after rehab, it felt like that connection was gone for good.

But ever since Kent came barging back into his life in February, things in his head make a little more sense. He can tell when intrusive thoughts are his and when they aren’t. He can push back against Kent’s and listen when Kent pushes back against his own.

Jack goes with what everyone else is doing and somehow, it turns out alright. He could do without the rest of the Haus acting like they’re keeping something from him (which, maybe they were a year ago but they’re extremely bad at hiding their sexcapades).

He goes with it, and when Kent falls asleep with his head in Jack’s lap after a long night of studying and watching tape, it feels worth it.

_/.\\_

 

Courting Jack officially isn’t all roses and gumdrops like his harem tries to make it feel. They nudge Bitty to make things for Jack and test the waters. As if he hasn’t thought of doing that. As if he hasn’t spent the better part of two years trying to figure out what makes Jack tick. He used to lose sleep wondering what he’s missed about Jack.

Kent should’ve been able to point them in the right direction. But Kent’s taste buds prove to be finicky at best, unpredictable at worst. He isn’t like Ransom or Holster who respond well to their soulmate’s food of choice. His mother assures him that Kent and Jack must present their bond in different ways than the other pair. They have an empathetic link which is enough evidence of their bond.

They’ve combed through every type of food imaginable, Bitty thinks. Neither Kent nor Jack have gotten close to finding Jack’s food. He thought they got close with the apple pie. But only for a moment. The next pie Bitty made had absolutely no effect on either of them.

There’s always the chance that dying changed Jack, Bitty muses. Maybe his food was blueberries or grapes. Maybe dying burned his soul. Maybe his soul merged with Kent’s upon death. Maybe he already mated Jack’s soul without realizing it.

That wouldn’t be bad...except clearly traces of Jack’s soul are still in his body. If he only has shards of his soul left then he could be burning himself out...they would have to either return the shards to Kent or else split Kent’s soul in half and give that to Jack.

That of course might kill either of them, but the alternative would likely be a slow and painful death for both of them. Maybe that’s why Kent shies away from Jack, he can’t physically handle the pain of their soul trying to remerge—  

“Bittle,” Jack’s voice interrupts his thoughts.

Bitty looks up from his laptop. He’s bleary eyed from staring at his screen so long. The kitchen has green spots all over it. He can only moderately discern them from the residual ectoplasm Lardo used for their painting last week.

“What?” he asks.

Jack grimaces. “You’re doing it again.”

“Oh,” Bitty murmurs. “Don’t what?”

“That—you’re thinking too loud,” he says.

“Am I? Well sorry, Mr. Zimmermann, I didn’t know you were clairvoyant,” Bitty chirps.

“Ha, ha,” he says. “Very funny.”

“I know, I’m quite charming.”

“Is your charm going to get our paper written?”

Bitty rolls his eyes. “I finished the bibliography a half and hour ago. I’m almost done proofreading.”

Jack gets up, rounding the table. He looks over Bitty’s shoulder. His open quarter zip reveals a blank, supple neck. Bitty averts his eyes,  trying not to blush.

“You’re missing a comma here, and here.” Jack points. “Are you sure you’ve read through this?”

Bitty chuckles. “Of course not, I’ve only spent the last two hours quietly screaming to myself.”

Jack stares at him blankly.

“It’s just a jo—”

“I know,” Jack says.

“Don’t worry I’ll—”

“But I do,” he says.

Bitty gapes. “What?”    

Jack stands up straight, running a hand through his hair. He gestures to the seat next to Bitty, asking to sit. Bitty nods, pulling it out for him. Jack takes a deep breath.

“Bittle,” Jack says carefully. “I’ve noticed...you’ve been tense lately.”

Shit, if Jack noticed. It must be bad. Bitty wonders what else he must be slipping on if Jack of all people—  

“It’s alright,” Jack says hurriedly.  “Uh, to be stressed sometimes. Everyone gets stressed.”

“Right,” Bitty agrees carefully.

“But, if it gets to be too much, well.”

“Well, what?”

Jack hesitates. He squeezes his right thumb between his pointer and middle finger.

“I know how bad it can get...when problems become bigger problems and they feel impossible to overcome. I know...because I’ve been there.”

Bitty stares at Jack’s hand. He doesn’t move when he feels a shift in the air. He doesn’t look up when Kent walks into the room. Jack can’t see him under those illusion charms, but he more than likely can feel the way Kent leans over to hug him tightly.  
Jack’s grip loosens as Kent’s hold continues.

“Take a deep breath,” Kent whispers into Jack’s ear. “You got this.”

Bitty acts like nothing’s out of the ordinary because Kent isn’t invisible, just highly ignorable. If Jack thinks something is wrong, the spell will disappear faster than August rain. He doesn’t want to be there when Jack realizes Kent’s been in front of him all along, literally.  

“I...I know once a problem feels big, it can stay that way. Or spiral,” Jack says finally. “But you aren’t alone, Bittle.”

“Ok,” Bitty says.

“You don’t have to talk about it with me. But I hope you tell someone you trust,” Jack says. “And if you need help managing stress, come find me. I know a thing or two.”

Kent chuckles into Jack’s ear. Bitty finds it endearing the way Jack grins easily after that. Illusionment charms only do so much. They mask people, but they can’t force reactions.

That smile was just for Kent. He knows Jack is right. He isn’t alone. Neither of them are. Maybe their job isn’t to navigate the world as solitary figures, but to find people to walk through it with them. He remembers his mother mentioning six years ago that they would have a lot in common.

“I’ll keep that in mind Jack,” Bitty says. “Thanks.”

_/.\\_  

 

In some ways, Kent believes Bitty is really trying. He can’t be around the Haus all the time, and more often than not he has to throw up illusion charms so Jack ignores him (well, ignores him more than normal). But still, he notices things. He sees the way Bitty makes more of an effort to include Jack in things. He sees the way he tries to be more vulnerable and upfront with Jack.

Jack reaches out to people more, and he laughs a little lighter. Fuck, Kent can feel in his bones the way things shift when Bitty lets his guard down. Jack is happier than he’s been in a long time. Maybe happier than he’s been in years.

It punches Kent’s gut to realize that Jack could be happier without him than he ever could be with him. But whenever he thinks about it too hard, something pushes against him. Some feeling in the back of his mind nudges him away from getting down on himself. It’s unsettling at first. He’s used to catching a feeling about himself that only gets worse the longer it lingers. He’s grown accustomed to being his own worst enemy.

He watches Jack rewrite lecture notes from the other side of the couch one afternoon, wondering what Jack would have ever seen in him. It’s the end of the regular season and the Aces aren’t advancing to the playoffs. He can’t help but feel responsible for disappointing so many people again. Jack included.

Jack sighs, throwing down his pencil. “Stop that,” he grumbles.

“Sorry,” Kent says without thinking.

Jack blinks, looking over in Kent’s direction. Kent doesn’t say anything, hopping the quiet will lull Jack away from noticing him. Jack stares at Kent for a moment before rubbing his eyes. He looks back at Kent’s spot, seemingly appeased by Kent’s illusion charm once again.

“You’re not a bad person,” Jack says, turning back to his notebook. “Don’t think like that.”

“Aren’t I?” Kent says softly.

Jack’s shoulders sag. “No, you’re aren’t. You’re working hard. You care about good people.”

“What do you know? Good things can happen to bad people.”

“Who cares? Bad things happen to good people, it doesn’t matter.”

“Fuck you, you’re so stubborn,” Kent says.

“Kettle, pot,” Jack murmurs. “...you’re not bad, Kenny.”

Kent groans. “I hate you so much.”

“No you don’t,” Jack says.  

“Why are you arguing with a fucking figment of your imagination anyway?”

Jack stops scribbling. He rolls his eyes, reaching over the couch. He grabs Kent’s wrist, pulling him over.

“Hey! Fuck, let go—”

Jack pulls Kent into his lap. “Figment, eh?”

Kent sticks his tongue out. “You can’t see me. It’s magic or whatever.”

Jack blinks. “So?”

“So...I’m not here, ignore me. Go back to your regularly scheduled programming.”

“Because you...enjoy hating yourself?”

Kent blushes. “No…”

Jack watches Kent intently...a little too closely for Kent’s comfort. He looks like he wants to punch Kent until—

“You’re doing it again,” Jack says.

“What?”

“Thinking too loud,” he says.

“Oh,” of course, Kent thinks. “You can hear me too, huh?”

“Yes,” Jack says. “More than I used to.”

“I...ok,” Kent says.  

Jack hugs him. It’s all the comfort and affection Kent’s been waiting years for. He thought he’d sooner die then get to feel this again.

“It’s alright,” Jack says. “We’re ok.”

Kent tightens his grip on Jack. He buries his head in the crook of Jack’s neck.  “You sure about that?”

“Of course,” he insists. “You do so much for us, Kenny.”

“If you say so,” Kent says.

“I know, Kenny,” Jack says. “I know what you did for me.”

 

_/.\\_

 

June 2009

 

_Bob and Alicia Zimmermann sit huddled together in a hospital waiting room. From a distance, they appear to be clinging to each other for comfort._

_“Uh,” Kent says. “Maybe I should…”_

_Alicia digs her nail into Bob’s wrist, drawing blood. Kent promptly shuts up._

_“Merde,” Bob says. “Are you sure this is going to work?”_

_“It worked last time, didn’t it?” Alicia says._

_She turns Bob’s wrist, letting the few drops of blood fall onto the business card between their laps. The card reads ‘Suzanne and Co. Demons for hire.’ After a few drops hit the lettering, a red spark bursts from the card. Time freezes around the hospital ward, yet Bob and Alicia remain unchanged._

_A portal pries open in front of them. Suzanne walks through the threshold, dressed in a bathrobe with curlers in her hair._

_“This better be good,” she says sternly._

_“It’s our son,” Bob says. “Jack he—”_

_“He’s going to die,” Alicia says. “The doctor’s are having a hard time stabilizing. We don’t know what else to do. Please.”_

_Suzanne crosses her arms. “And what are you offering me in return? You can’t offer me service, this is much too big a contract for that.”_

_“Our fame. Our fortune. Anything,” Bob insists._

_“All things given to you by me, in return for your souls...which I already own.” She rubs her temple._

_“Please, Suzanne,” Alicia says. “This is the last time we ask you for anything. I promise.”_  

_She snorts. “Sweet cheeks, we both know that’s a lie. As it is, you’re already running out of human years and it’s about time I collect.”_

_Alicia opens her mouth to argue. Suzanne holds up a hand to stop her._

_“I’ve heard all your excuses before. Don’t waste your breath,” she says. “Let’s see...he’s eighteen so I should hardly be making a deal like this with you regardless. Who’s to say he even wants to live? What life worth living have you offered him? Does he even know the value of his own life?”_

_They gasp, staring at her in horror._

_Suzanne waltzes around the waiting room. She slows down when she crosses in front of Kent. She walks closer, not taking her eyes off Kent. She unfreezes him._

_She caresses Kent’s jaw. “Innocence broken so quickly by forces outside of his own control. It hardly seems fair that you’ve crushed his free will so harshly.”_

_“We only wants best for him!” Alicia shouts._

_“And yet, you only see what he represents, and not who he is,” she murmurs. “You see a pet, a trophy. Not a person. Not a beautiful, brilliant being with more to offer than your legacy.”_

_Something pricks at the corner of Kent’s left eye._

_“Funny how we take the people in our lives for granted, assuming they’ll always be around,” she says. “Until they’re not.”_

_She squeezes Kent’s shoulder. She leans in closer. “You know, all you have to do is ask.”_

_“Ask what?”_

_“To live,” she says._

_“But, I...what?”_

_Suzanne points to his chest. “You speak for both of you. I wouldn’t kill an innocent set of soulmates for these fools negligence.”_

_“Thanks,” Kent says. “Uh, but how?”_

_Suzanne pulls him up to his feet, and leads him out of the room. They walk down the hall. Jack’s body lies on a table, a crash kit is being hauled into the room at the moment Suzanne froze._

_“You’re very lovely, do you know that? All this trauma, grief, anguish. These metaphorical demons picking at your brains. You almost never met, and yet, you found each other.”_

_“Yea,” Kent agrees softly. “So are we like...the same person?”_

_“Not at all, sweetpea,” she says. “Just two halves of one whole. At some point you were one...but that was what? Three hundred years ago? Something like that.”_

_“Oh, what were we?”_

_Suzanne frowns. “Well gimme your hand, let’s see.”_

_Kent let’s her take his left hand, watching as she squeezes it._

_“Ah, you were a water nymph, and so very young,” she says._

_He bites his lip. It sounds fake to him. And yet, and yet. Wouldn’t that explain all the strange dreams he grew up with? The places he’s never seen. The people he instinctively knows without having met them. The way he always finds Jack on ice._

_“So now what?” he asks._

_“Well, sweetpea, say the word and you’ll both be safe and cared for,” she says._

_“How come? Like, what’s the catch?”_

_“Well, I think you’d be really good for my son’s harem. I think you’re the kind of people he needs on his side.”_

_He stares at her in alarm. “Do I have a choice?”_

_“You always have a choice but...I don’t think you want the other options.”_

_“But Jack,” he says.  “I can’t make that choice for him.”_

_“Alright, how’s this. You serve me for one year, and in return, I save his life. No strings attached on his part.”_

_Kent stares at Jack, mortality dangling by a thread in the hands of...humans. They don’t even sound human from the way Suzanne describes them. How can he trust them to save the best part of Kent when they don’t even understand Jack? No one takes care of Jack the way he needs to be. He thinks there’s a method to Suzanne’s madness. But he can’t make that decision for Jack. Kent can’t bind them forever without knowing how it’ll affect him._

_“Deal,” he says._

 

_/.\\_

 

Kent takes a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut. “You...fuck how?”

Jack shrugs. “My parents. They, uh, mentioned that they owed you a life debt.”

“Why?”

“I asked where you went and they...told me,” Jack whispers. “I found Suzanne’s card and struck up a deal. Your debt for our souls.”

Kent blushes. “Oh.”

Jack kisses his ear. “Thank you, Kenny.”

“For what it’s worth...they don’t owe me anything,” he says. “I would’ve done it anyway.”

“I know,” Jack says.  “But, I owe you. For letting me take my time.”

“Duh, not like we can exactly run out of it,” he says. “Hypothetically speaking.”

“Hypothetically speaking, we live with sex demons.”

“You noticed that too, huh?” Kent chirps.

“You’re very loud. All of you,” Jack says.

Kent laughs, sitting upright enough to look at Jack’s face. “Guess we can’t sneak anything past you.”

“No,” Jack says playfully, leaning in to kiss Kent’s nose. “Guess not.”


End file.
